Post navigation

Little White Lies

Is it okay to say you are doing well, when you are not? How about that nothing is new, when life with a baby brings the unexpected every single day?

Does it matter who it is to, what it is about, or what the purpose might be? Or is it more about whether the lie is white, or grey, or black?

I don’t know.

But I do know that my truth is telling lies. Little white ones. Harmless. Trivial. Inconsequential. I’ve become quite accustomed to presenting a story to those around me. Creating an illusion. Crafting words with omission. To smooth things over. To avoid confrontation. To spare feelings. To dodge difficult conversations.

I’ve often heard it said that white lies are okay. Lies told to protect others. But protecting oneself through lies? That’s deceptive. Wrong. Harmful. Hurtful. And I agree, wholeheartedly.

But what of lying to yourself? Does it count as a white lie if you are both the storyteller and listener? Protecting yourself, from yourself? Is that wrong? Because here is another truth; that’s me. I do that sometimes too.

I’m not a Bird who always smiles. My life is often chaotic. Feelings of anxiety regularly invade my head space. This is my shade. But when there is light, there is laughter. Life is fun. And the sun is shining while I dance. Bending the truth helps get me through the shade and back into the light. And that’s my unvarnished truth on white lies.

I’m a lying liar. Am I the only one?

Bec, from Bird with a chip, is a newcomer to the blogosphere. As a self-confessed d.i.try-er, and lover of all things sweet, Bec writes about life as a new Mumma, with some decor and delicacies on the side